I go among trees and sit still. All my stirring becomes quiet Around me like circles on water. My tasks lie in their places Where I left them, asleep like cattle.

Then what I am afraid of comes. I live for a while in its sight. What I fear in it leaves it, And the fear of it leaves me. It sings, and I hear its song.

Then what I am afraid of comes. I live for a while in its sight. What I fear in it leaves it, and the fear of it leaves me. It sings, and I hear its song.

After days of labor, mute in my consternations, I hear my song at last, and I sing it. As we sing, the day turns, the trees move.”

(Wendell Berry)

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